Thursday, 15 October 2009

Well, okay.... a slight porkie: there were no crisps, but there was coffee, diet coke, and a fruit scone!

Monique and her friend Greeny (so named as she has green hair) joined us at Costa Piccadilly, sat within sight of the East Window of St. James' (which I bored everyone about having ancestors married there in 1793). We managed a good couple of hours with just Steven having bought a single drink... some girly beverage with lots of frothy milk... ;) - but to make up for it, he managed to lower the tone with talk about cack, poo and plop (sweets, of which we all agreed we'd never eat, and have probably spelt wrong).

There was also much talk about books, and a wee bit about BEING 40... ;) And the most fabulously placed shameless plug of ALL time. Yes, I wrapped up one of my work's promotional pens for Steven's birthday pressie. Sheer genius, if I do say so myself. He liked the birthday card though... and yes, it was football related and taking the wee-wee out of Arse..., so all's well that ends well (now, who was it who said that?), and Steven was happy.

The poor thing was starving though, having only had a hugely expensive slap-up meal at The Langham (or some place like that). Enter the fruit scone - exit the fruit scone. Monique and I downed hot chocolates: yum!

Seems I just missed out on my arc for Silver, so will have to save my opinion of that for another time. I can, however, pop in the cover for Steven's new StarGate novel:

Wednesday, 30 September 2009

A member of a forum, of which I frequent far too often, has posted this on her Live Journal account, and I just had to share it (with her permission) in the hope that we all stop and think about our online activities ...

"Please Read - Inappropriate Use of Photos"

"I am not usually one to get all up on my high horse about photos I've posted online. It's annoying when something you've posted ends up somewhere else without credit, but at the weekend I heard something that made my stomach churn. A complete stranger told me that she recognised my son from an email attachment that's been floating round. Apparently someone has taken a picture of him and Gareth David-Lloyd and captioned it "Ianto and Lisa's Baby". I can only imagine that someone saw the photo of Gareth and a small mixed race boy and there mind had that random thought. The thing is that most normal people would leave it there and wouldn't then pass that photo around with a silly caption. You have no idea how I felt on hearing that my son was being used as an object of amusement for someone. I share my pictures in very few places - my LJ (photo posts are usually flocked), my private photobucket account and this one photo was shared with friends on a Torchwood forum. What makes this worse is that it is probably someone I know that has done this. While I usually don't worry too much about sharing pictures of my son online this is taking it too far. I want to be able to share pics with my friends but this has seriously made me have to rethink that. Taking a picture of someone's child and knowingly editing it and passing it around is not cool. Not cool at all. I know this is my fault for being trusting but I wanted to post this so that people may think twice about how they use images belonging to others. I feel violated, I feel that my son has been violated and I just can't understand why someone would do that. it was creepy having a stranger approach me and say "I'm sorry to have to tell you this..." and then go on to describe the photo in detail. I just hope that by posting this the person who did this may see it and that they (and anyone reading this really) will have a long think about how they use other people's images without permission in future. There's not much I can do about this now but please, if you get this email, don't pass it on. Seriously fandom, it's creepy stuff like this that gives us a bad name."

Sunday, 20 September 2009

Yep, another meet-up with Mr. Savile, and this time I think the two of us drank enough diet coke to, well, raise the diet coke shares a few percentage... at least. Oh, and yes, ‘me and me fella’ got lost again whilst trying to find the hotel. Train to Richmond, check; District Line to Gloucester Street, check; Circle Line to Bayswater, check; bothered to work out the route from the station to the hotel before leaving, so we knew which way to go... erm... well. God bless street maps you can download onto a mobile phone... ;)

Steven was sat in the bar when we arrived, Mac laptop open, looking intelligent and cool in his jeans and open shirt, dressed ‘full circle’ as he says, like he had done in the 80’s, an empty glass to one side (to prove how long it had taken us to finally locate the hotel in Queensborough Terrace - 3 minutes from the station - but hey, we took the scenic route!!!).

First round in.. diet coke for me and Steven, an Irish cider for me fella, with the football results playing on the big screen telly - bit of a theme in hotels methinks, or is that just the way it looks (shame we hadn’t met during the Ashes). Steven was pleased to say he’d been moved from his tiny basement room to a big boy's one UPstairs, and then sat enthusiastically telling us all his latest news and gossip. Of course I had to tease him about meeting Sandra Bullock a couple of weeks ago - but then, if she will make a film ‘All About Steve’, who am I to argue?

Then onto news about ‘Silver’ - boy! is Steven excited about this book, and it’s hardly surprising. I can still remember him talking vaguely about it in the past, and even then he was excited: and who can blame the guy... it’s going to be one of those tales that will have you questioning so much about everything you have previously taken as, well... Maybe I should let you find out for yourself. And you won’t have any excuse not to read it when it’s released, as you’ll have the pick of fourteen different languages, such as French, Spanish and Polish.... or maybe you’ll try it in more than one!

Another round of coke & cider, and out came a couple of books I’d brought for Steven to sign, (with much giggling and sarcastic commenting): ‘Slaine: The Exile’ was very kindly signed by Ukko, that little darling who’s the REAL hero; and ‘Vampire Wars: The Von Carstein Trilogy’... which we then sat flicking through, as Steven explained the ‘over 700’ puns and references he had made throughout... highlighting some of the chapter titles, playing on songs that meant something to him which, for some reason, led into a hummed rendition of the 'Peter Gunn' theme - such is life.

And then it was time to eat: I let the guys choose the venue...

We may not have had a pool, and I certainly ‘ain’t no Sandra Bullock’, but Hollywood doesn’t have the "Whiteleys Centre" where we enjoyed MORE diet coke and a good fill of Mexican/Tex Mex specialities at Oscars. Delicious!!! And more talk about ‘Silver’.

This is not going to be a quick read, nor is it going to be an easy read, but our book shops are full of ‘best sellers’ that you can plough through in a couple of hours, which then end up at the local charity shop, having made NO impact, what-so-ever, on your life. ‘Silver’ is going to change you, challenge you... and have you thinking about deeper things than “will the hero get the girl/heroine get the guy (or new handbag/pair of shoes)”.

Steven is such an intelligent writer, and has probably been slightly stifled (myterm, and used loosely) over the years of his ‘over night success’, but now he is coming into his own, and a thriller is were his heart lies. I don’t think I’ve ever met somebody who can hold me totally enthralled by simple observations, which he fills out with Plato-like philosophies. A chat with him isn’t just a natter about ‘how’s things?’, ‘did you see that thing about what’yer-ma-flip on the telly?’ and ‘what about old thingy-ma-bob saying...?’: it’s all that, and then some... and then some more. He always has an amazing theory or two (or ten), which you know are going to set you thinking... And then he’ll have you giggling in the corner with some antic he’s been up to... ;)

*Coke - well, I’ve had Coffee and Curry with Steve so far... but I don’t think I’ll be sticking to the formula next time... unless we go to a Butterfly Farm with a rather weird menu.

"When the Doctor arrives on Earth in the far future, he is horrified to find the planet beset by famine and starvation. England is a barren wasteland, and scientists are desperately seeding the ground to make the crops grow again. But now it seems that something even worse is happening. Karl Baring, the owner of research facility The Grange, has been snatched away in the middle of the night. His sister Katy was with him when he vanished, but is now in catatonic shock - so it is up to the Doctor, with the help of the scientists at The Grange, to investigate. What is lurking under the old bridge, and why is it preying on people? The Doctor must find out, before it strikes again... "

Written specially for audio by Simon Messingham and read by David Tennant, this brand new exclusive adventure features the Doctor as played by David Tennant in the acclaimed hit series from BBC Television.

Friday, 11 September 2009

LA, the Roosevelt Hotel, to be precise, holds a special place in my heart. In 2003 I spent a week there attending a workshop run by Tim Powers and KD Wentworth. It was the week that changed my life. The one that convinced me I might have a career here. Kevin J Anderson, David Carradine, Bill Widder, and Charles Brown came to talk to us and convince us to quit (well in Charles' case). Bill gave us a great talk about pulps. Carradine rambled incoherently and was a salutary lesson of the ills of celebrity, and KJA talked business. It was an inspirational talk. Powers gave so graciously of his time and craft, and as a counterpoint Kevin essentially said 'you want to survive, know these things...'

Monday, 31 August 2009

Oh yes! A weekend away with my lovely 'cuzzy', thanks to Auntie Mags, and where do we go? Aye: Shepton Mallet when there just happens to be a Doctor Who convention - ah, what a coincidence.

Cuzzy did all the driving, seeing as I can't, and what do we see on the border of Somerset? Only an advertising banner for The Wurzels!!! Not stereotyped at all. But in the true sense of a Doctor Who weekend, we also spotted directions to a local quarry, so all was well.

We stayed at a gorgeous B&B, Burnt House Farm in Drove, just a few miles from Shepton Mallet.

We really felt welcome, and not only made friends with the lovely family there, but also the dogs and alpaca... yes, that's right: alpaca.

Probably best not mention that we nick-named this one Frazer.. ;)

Saturday was Wells day, or as cuzzy will have you know: 'Hot Fuzz' worship day. Photographs at St.Cuthbert's church, but not to stand under the tower - I've no idea why, as I've yet to see the film. Although I'm assured that spotting the swan on the castle moat meant a big deal. We wandered round the cathedral, and the town itself. Spotted a card with an almost de-kilted man on the front, which was nice - only to get back to the B&B to discover cuzzy had bought it for me (she knows me too well).

*

And so to the Sunday: Doctor Who Day, at the ACADEMY THEATRE, Shepton Mallet.
So, who was there... cuzzy, Marion and Barry... oh, and ME!!!

Me and Marion - don't ask.

But seriously - said good morning to Colin Baker as he arrived: charming man, who has so much time for the fans, and happy to stop for photos and a chat. Next to walk past was Anneke Wills and Ben Craze - so I said morning to them too. I think Ben was a bit surprised he'd been recognised.

Yes, there was a bit of mischief around Frazer's table: MARION! ... and it wasn't the first time that day now was it, eh? Mind you, I'm to blame for him flashing a bit of leg (not that he needed much encouragement). He had a fab tie on.

Frazer - TARDIS tie!!! - Marion

I also had a bit of a laugh standing in for Tim Hirst at Anneke's table - I hope that guy knew I was joking, but he did stick around, so ....

Also managed to tell Wendy Padbury I hated her. Well, there was this beautiful photo of her, so I said she looked gorgeous in it, and in real life too... I know, sickeningly cheesy (but true), so I had to address the balance and say I hated her, out of jealousy... :D

Wendy and Barry (told you she's still gorgeous).

And, of course, there was also the TARDIS

And that was the weekend... oh, apart from adding that cuzzy and I lived on JellyBabies, crisps and chocolate. I also fell in love with the cows on the other side of the valley from the B&B, but cuzzy wouldn't let me bring a couple home - something to do with scratching her paintwork: spoil-sport (but I think it was because she wanted to bring a certain alpaca home, and knew there'd not be room for us all).

Thursday, 27 August 2009

AJ Tata: You are an international bestselling author having sold 250,000 copies with books printed in 14 different languages. To what do you attribute your broad appeal to such a variety of people?

Steven Savile: I don't know about you, but when I write I make a series of conscious choices that are outside of the writing, and one of them is made purely with the understanding that reading is a voluntary habit and is financed by residual income - the same income that pays for nights at the cinema, an evening at the sports bar, a packet of cigarettes, etc - so every word I write is competing with these vices."

Thursday, 6 August 2009

"I read the description of SILVER, and I have to say it sounds very interesting. Would you mind telling us a little about the book for the benefit of those who have not read anything about it?

Well, hmm, that’s harder to do than you’d think. I mean, Silver is a political thriller, for sure. It’s a religious thriller, absolutely. But not in any way you’d expect. The roots are in messianic prophecies, Judaism, Nostradamus’ predictions of the antichrist, and the nature of fear and how it works in the every day world we now live in. It’s a big book. Almost twice the length of anything I’ve done before, but it’s a page turner. The core concept is that the 30 pieces of silver that Judas was paid have been melted down into a dagger and fundamentalists plan to use it to usher in the the next messiah… "

Tuesday, 28 July 2009

Henry APPELMAN was possibly born in Germany. He is mentioned as the father of Adam in Adam's will of 1804, having money owed to him [Adam] from the sale of "Henry's" land in Oberingelheim in the Rhineland Palantinate (at the time in the French Republic).

Adam APPELMAN ("Henry") was possibly born in Germany. He died in 1804 (see will of Adam Appelman below).

He married Charlotte GORDON 27 October 1793 at St. James' Piccadilly, Westminster London; both of the parish, by banns, witnessed by John Reid and J. Gordon.

Adam was a pianoforte maker, and may have worked for the Kirkman family.

IGI records the birth and baptism of a Frances APPELMAN in 1789, the daughter of Adam and Mary. This seems to suggest a previous marriage.

After Adam's death, Charlotte married George Martens [Mertens] in 1810, at St. George's Bloomsbury.

Known children of Adam Appelman and Charlotte:

Joseph APPELMAN born 16.Feb.1795 - Marylebone, London.

Jane APPELMAN born 24.Jan.1802 - Marylebone, London.

Joseph APPELMAN (Adam - "Henry") was born 16 Feb 1795 in Marylebone London, and was baptised 21 Mar 1795 at St. Mary Marylebone.

He married Mary Ann Ricketts ASHTON 18 Dec 1825 at St. James' Westminster London; both of the parish, by banns, witnessed by Thomas Haynes and Laura Barnicot.

Joseph was a pianoforte maker like his father, although he was only 9 years old when his father died.

Known child of Joseph Appelman and Mary Ann:

Joseph John APPELMAN born 29.Jan.1828 - Marylebone, London.

Joseph John APPELMAN (Joseph - Adam - "Henry") was born 29.Jan.1828 in Marylebone London, and baptised 29 Jun 1828 at All Souls Marylebone.

He married Jane Elizabeth WILLIAMS 21 Oct 1850 at All Souls Marylebone.

Thursday, 23 July 2009

I’m in a bad mood today, so thought I’d have a moan. But not about what has actually put me in a bad mood - you really don’t want to get me started on that one.

No. Today I’m going to whinge about liars. Not those who tell a little white lie to save somebody’s feelings, or to keep a confidence - those are nice lies. Nor do I mean the lies that are really just a stretching of the truth, usually borne out of pride or a little too much excitement.

What I’m talking about is the whoppers: the boasters who have nothing to boast about, so make things up to look good: the bullsh** lies. Those that do these wonderful things, or know personally these wonderful people, even though everyone around them knows ‘full well’ they don’t. And boy! do they throw the toys from the pram when you dare to challenge them.

And, of course, there’s the sh** stirrer’s lies: the ones said to cause trouble. I’ve had some of these directed at me recently. Sadly, though, I’m use to it, and really don’t care what these people have to say any more. They are nothing but petty-minded individuals whose only pleasure in life seems to be making others miserable. I’m sure you know a few yourself.

Yeah, sure, I’ve told some whoppers in my time: who hasn't? But I gave those games up when I stopped being a child, so to see grown adults still doing it is quite amusing. Especially when they actually start to believe the lies themselves after a while - that’s the best bit. And even better if they forget what they’ve said. Although, catching out a bullsh** liar is one thing, but getting a sh** stirring one is hilarious.

Signed: Moody of M*******

P.S. Might whinge about those who can't be grateful for what they have next time... ;)

Saturday, 11 July 2009

People who know me, know I’m far from a ‘squeeing fangirl’ when it comes to Russell T. Davis, but this week has seen me doff my Rusty cap at Mr. D. and his team, and say: that was a damn fine piece of British drama.

Yes, I’m a fan of Torchwood, so what! It’s part of the Whoniverse in which I proudly live. Heck! even some of my friends are Whovians - well, okay, most of my friends are of that persuasion, and I’m proud of them too.

So... this last week: Torchweek, as I’ve seen it called, my schedule was pretty much set around 9-10pm for five nights. BBC1 on the wide screen, and following the Doctor’s instructions: DON’T BLINK

Sadly, I did blink a few times, and I did miss some bits of the action. I’m old! I can’t focus on the screen if it’s full of movement - but apart from my fogey ailments, I was glued, hooked, and then totally blown away.

Superb!

To me, series three of Torchwood went deeper into the drama, nicked plenty of emotion from ClassicWho, and took me on the biggest ride of my life for five consecutive nights. I don’t want to start mentioning specific scenes, comment on plot, or even make too much of an obvious hint, as I’ve friends who have yet to watch, but I will say: I didn’t see that coming, and I wasn’t expecting that... oh and, great jumping gob stoppers, that was just simply brilliant.

And wasn’t Nicholas Briggs FAB in front of the camera - MORE!

Mind you, I was a wee bit naughty: I did allow myself one twitter: “Spot the difference between DW fans and fangirls - DW fans get excited over a quarry/fangirls at seeing JB's *spoiler*”Yes, I’m weak - I even spotted The Shippons (but that’s a private joke).

Thursday, 2 July 2009

They shot young Windebank just here, By Merton, where the sunStrikes on the wall. ’T was in a year Of blood the deed was done.

At morning from the meadows dim He watched them dig his grave.Was this in truth the end for him, The well-beloved and brave?

He marched with soldier scarf and sword, Set free to die that day,And free to speak once more the word That marshalled men obey.

But silent on the silent band, That faced him stern as death,He looked, and on the summer land, And on the grave beneath.

Then with a sudden smile and proud He waved his plume, and cried,“The king! the king!” and laughed aloud, “The king! the king!” and died.

Let none affirm he vainly fell, And paid the barren costOf having loved and served too well A poor cause and a lost.

He in the soul’s eternal cause Went forth as martyrs must-The kings who make the spirit laws And rule us from the dust;

Whose wills unshaken by the breath Of adverse Fate endure,To give us honor strong as death And loyal love as sure.

- Margaret L. Woods

The death of Young Windebank: Colonel Francis Windebank, shot at Oxford on the 3rd of May, 1645, following trial by Royalist Court-Martial, for the questionable surrendering of Bletchingdon House to Parliamentary Forces1 the previous month.

Born c.1613, the son of Catholic Sir Francis Windebank once Secretary of State for Charles I, Colonel Francis had been raised as a Royalist, with both Royalist blood and Royalist connections. His paternal grandmother, Frances, was the daughter of Sir Edward Dymoke, and Anne ( néeTalboys), and had herself royal blood from the descent of Edward III through the Percy line. Yet this thinning blood had lost its meaning, and the King himself, with the power to save Windebank as he had pardoned several others for similar offences, failed to act.

The Colonel, he who had been honoured for such bravery at the ‘Battle of Cheriton’ the previous year, was condemned to die for cowardice by the “councell of war”.

"Poor Windebank was shot by sudden court-martial, so enraged were they at Oxford; for Cromwell had not even foot-soldiers, still less a battering-gun. It was his poor young wife, they said, she and other ladies on a visit there, at Bletchington House, that confounded poor Windebank. He set his back to the wall of Merton College, and received his death-volley with a soldier's stoicism." - Carlyle's Cromwell

The Royalist Governor of Campden House, Gloucestershire, Sir Henry Bard, had written to Prince Rupert on the 28th of April 1645:"The letter enclosed was sent to me from Oxford, to be conveyed with all speed possible. Pray God it comes time enough! It concerns a most unfortunate man, Colonel Windebank. Sir, pity him and reprieve him. It was God's judgment on him, and no cowardice of his own. At the battle of Alresford he gave a large testimony of his courage, and if with modesty I may bring in the witness, I saw it, and thence began our acquaintance. Oh, happy man had he ended then! Sir, let him but live to repair his honour, of which I know he is more sensible than are the damned of the pains of hell. And sure it will be a perfect means to his salvation. God and your Highness consult about it."But Rupert never receive the letter, it having been intercepted by the enemy. The prince, ignorant of all knowledge, arrived in Oxford on the 4th of May - a day too late.

Perchance beneath where now I stand, he stood,Setting his back against the college wall,Baring his breast, not dabbled yet with blood,A bold, unflinching mark for many a ball;His young wife's name borne on his latest breath-Short trial his, brief shrift and soldier's death.

- John Bruce Norton

*

A few months short of ten years after that fatal day, Jane, the widow of Colonel Windebank, married Thomas Teyrrill, esq. in London. Their daughter, Frances Windebank, married Edward Hales in 1669.

Interestingly, the eldest son of the Colonel’s sister Margaret, Francis Turner D.D., would later become one of the ‘Seven Bishops’ (as Bishop of Ely) who petitioned King James II on his second Declaration of Indulgence in 1688, and was imprisoned in the Tower of London for seditious libel. Despite this, Turner remained loyal to the Stewart king, and following the ‘Glorious Revolution’ later that year, refused to swear an oath of allegiance to William and Mary, thus becoming one of the nine nonjuring bishops.

*

1General Cromwell's Letter, that he had defeated Part of the King's Forces; and taken a House in Bletchington; commanded by Colonel Windebank, and articles, between General Cromwell and Colonel Windebank, on the Surrender of it.

Thursday, 18 June 2009

Tuesday, 16 June 2009

On the Outside it Looked Likean Old Fashioned Police BoxTuesday 23 June - 11.30am

"Mark Gatiss, Doctor Who writer and fanatic, explores the hugely popular Doctor Who novelisations of the 1970s and 80s, published by Target books. Featuring some of the best excerpts from the books and interviews with publishers, house writers, illustrators and the actors whose adventures the books tirelessly depicted.

In an age before DVD and video, the Target book series of Doctor Who fiction was conceived as the chance for children to 'keep' and revisit classic Doctor Who. They were marketed as such, written in a highly visual house style. Descriptive passages did the work of the TV camera and the scripts were more or less faithfully reproduced as dialogue.

The books were as close to the experience of watching as possible, and were adored by a generation of children who grew up transfixed by the classic BBC series. Target Doctor Who books became a children's publishing phenomenon - they sold over 13 million copies worldwide. From 1973 until 1994, the Target Doctor Who paperbacks were a mainstay of the publishing world.

Sunday, 7 June 2009

It’s been a while since I last actually wrote anything more than a few lines (if that), so I thought it was about time I strung some of those things called words together. Not that I’ve much to say - I missed Mr Savile earlier in the year through a last minute hitch in travel arrangements (those who know me well know what I’m on about), so I can’t comment about the ‘mass signing’ that went on at Forbidden Planet, although I’m hoping to catch up with him, and possibly the lovely Lady Savile too, in August. Oh, and Steven, if you read this, I’m still waiting for that introduction to Joe Lidster you promised me - I need to know if I have the ability to ‘fangirl’ and/or ‘squee’. And whilst on the subject of Steven Savile (yes sir, you are more than just a man, you are a subject too), I think I’m just as excited about the publication of‘Silver’ in October - how many countries/languages will it be coming out in now?

There’s also all the lovely Doctor Who events going on around the country: not that I can go to them, being totally skint and being mildly agoraphobic (with nobody to hold my hand) doesn’t help - but I’m enjoying seeing all the piccies on Facebook, and taking pleasure from the enjoyment others are having...

Now, what else has happened... Oh yes, the floods and leaks that my lovely flat has been dishing out. Pretty much sums up how jinxed I feel right now. Yes, I’m still in that dark and lonely place, BUT... I’m weeding out the negatives, and refusing to let them get the better of me any more. There are two major flaws to my theory (work and relationship), but I don’t air my dirty laundry in public, and I’m more than sure that you don’t want to read about such things. I have some wonderful friends in my life (‘specially you - you know who you are), and whilst in the solitude of lonely darkness, one is offered the most amazing environment to sit and count all those small mercies and little blessings, not to mention that guy Mr Michalowski cracking me up.

There was a bit of a surprise a few weeks back too. I won’t go into detail, as it’s not in my nature, but I have to admit that I did think it was wind up at first, so probably didn’t come across too well - but hey...

Moving on: At the end of March I went to a place I’ve been wanting to go to for years: that being York. I can’t believe it’s taken me years just to get back to the county. As a teenager I fell in love with The Dales (thanks to this place), and promised myself that I’d try and visit at least every other year once I was an adult (or move there). But as life happens, other priorities come into play, and before you know it, decades have passed you by. I won’t go into the matter of my climb up the steps of York Minster’s tower, but I do recommend you do it if possible (and thank those two lads and lovely lady for being so understanding, even if somebody else couldn’t). The city is amazing: the Walls, the Shambles, the art gallery (I just loved the painting by the stairs - if you’ve been there and know anything about me, you’ll know why). It was pee’in down with rain and blowing a gale most of the Saturday (yes, being up the tower in that was fun - walking along a wet gantry with only a handrail between you and a rather long drop was the best bit), but I guess that’s just another thing worth visiting the county for *wink*.

Well, that’s it for now... it’s getting late, and I need to save some things for another day (read: can’t think of anything else - but am bound to the moment I switch my laptop off).

EDIT: Direct link to the radio showhereThe interview starts around 02:06:50, but do be sure to listen to Judi Spiers' wonderful introduction to Anneke right at the beginning (around 06:25).Available until:12:02pm Tuesday 9th June 2009

Saturday, 30 May 2009

"Forget those overpaid young men who chase bags of wind around in the rain, an Ashes series is on the horizon. What better time to look back at the history of the summer game? The first episode of a four-part series focuses on cricket’s development in England."

- Episode OneEngland: A look at how the English invented cricket and exported it to the wider British Empire.- Episode TwoWest Indies: The story of the development of cricket in the West Indies.(includes an interview with Michael Holding - he of that quote)- Episode ThreeAustralia: How Australia got the best cricket team in the world. (and 'The Boy From Bowral')- Episode FourIndia: The Indian game, from the sport of the English colonisers to the Indian Premier League.

All available until:Sunday 28th June 2009

*

I've finally managed to watch all four episodes, and would like to congratulate the BBC for a job well done.

Friday, 29 May 2009

Further details here on their website. But, for the lazy amongst you ;) here's the blurb:

"BBC Books - Torchwood Discussion and SigningThe British Fantasy Society and BBC Books are pleased to announce that on the 3rd July they will be hosting a free Torchwood event at The George pub on London's historic Fleet Street, a short walk from Temple Tube Station.Authors of the latest Torchwood novels from BBC Books, Mark Morris, Sarah Pinborough and Guy Adams are joined by scriptwriter Joe Lidster in an informal panel discussion hosted by Andrew Cartmel, fellow Torchwood author for BBC Books and onetime script editor of Doctor Who.

The discussion will last approximately one hour and will be followed by an opportunity for people to buy books and have them signed by those attending.The event will start at 19.30 and is free to attend but please note that space is limited. "

And, on another exciting note (b#, I think),Sam Stone will be launching her
new literary baby, 'Futile Flame'.

Details from here:
"The quest for the origin of the Vampire Gene continues ...

Gabriele searches out Lucrezia, who reveals to him the horrors of her teenage years in the house of the Borgias in the sixteenth century, and the possessive obsession of her brother Caesare who cannot accept that his love for her is unrequited. Her transformation as a vampire gives her freedom to escape for a short time, but leads to the terrifying world of the Allucians; throwing her back into the arms of her now much stronger and powerful brother, two centuries later.

Gabriele discovers that Lucrezia is just as much a victim of her past as he is.

*

Author and poet Sam Stone's first novel, Gabriele Caccini – The Vampire Gene Book 1 (as Paigan Stone), was the fulfillment of a lifelong dream. Like all good authors she drew on her own knowledge and passions to write it. The novel won ForeWord Magazine's silver award for BEST HORROR NOVEL 2007. In September 2008 Gabriele Caccini was re-edited and republished by The House of Murky Depths as Killing Kiss. She has recently sold a couple of short stories and is working on a film treatment for Killing Kiss as well as a new urban fantasy series for young adults. "

Monday, 25 May 2009

Earlier today I read a new poem by Sam Stone called 'The Dream', and it reminded me that I still hadn't dug out the old poem of mine that I'd been asked to post here ages ago (in fact, it was when I had my previous blog) - a bit late, I know, as it's was written for Remembrance in November... but I'll only forget again, so here it is now.

A World Of War

The final shot had been fired.The last fighter fell,His enemy wounded and still.All was dark.A lonely wind blew through the void,Whispering its silent wail of senseless agony.A river of blood burst over its banks of death.Pain seeped into the earth.All seemed lost to the world of war.Trees lay in splinters,Lands barren and torn.A moment of peace.A moment of calm.The Poppies will grow once more.

Friday, 22 May 2009

I see that the audio for 'The Story of Martha' has been announced online. I thoroughly enjoyed the book (the stories and the concept), and highly recommend it.

There have been some thoughts I've shared with a few people: mainly, that I wonder if it's the BBC's version of 'Short Trips'... will we have the standard 'novels' and this new short story type as a regular set of releases in the future?

Wednesday, 20 May 2009

What can I say... I was feeling down and lonely, so wondered if an hour or two on Facebook would be just what the doctor ordered (no, not the Doctor - he suggested I watch Classic Who dvds, so I did that as well).

Anyhoo.... Facebook... There were a few quizzes doing the rounds, and I thought they'd make a great distraction. Little did I know, four hours later (yeah, and the rest) ... You get the picture.

2) I should be living in the 1700's - "The world saw many revolutions in the 18th century, the bloodiest being perhaps the French Revolution (feel like grabbing a pitchfork and storming Bastille or a nobleman's estate?).

3) that I'm "upper class" (which I think had more to do with the fact I said yes to polo and horse racing than anything else (???)).

So that was my evening of fun... and, honestly, it was - would have been better if cuzzy had stayed up a wee bit longer (although, knowing our luck, msn would have crashed)... but on the whole it was a FABtastic evening with Alex and James on msn, and... oh, the usual suspects...

Tuesday, 5 May 2009

'Self Portrait' - what can I say: I laughed and I cried. Got goose bumps all over. An amazing story to tell, and what a wonderful way it was told - as if I were an old friend catching up on the gossip of years missed. The highs and the lows; the mundane and the totally eccentric; the loves and the passions, and the betrayals. But what shines through is the devotion of true friends, and the honesty that Anneke speaks. Although I guess there is one warning worth heeding: make sure the jam jar is big enough before you start.

And then I went off to get 'Naked': all the way through the 'Bhagwan years' I was often thinking of the time Anneke's mother had wanted to set the finches free from their cages in Spain - I wondered if, deep down, that Anneke had been frightened to be released from 'her cage', to be completely free, in fear of not being able to survive. I won't pretend to understand the actual details of these years, but the sense of spiritual healing rang true, and sure enough, the strength and belief in herself blossomed - and she survived the freedom in more ways than one. I sobbed my heart out for her, and smiled and cheered for her; and I cried some more, as much for myself as for Anneke. Then to feel the final contentment in her life is truly inspiring - she had Greers books, I have Anneke's.

Both books Available onlinethrough the official Anneke Wills websitehere.

Monday, 4 May 2009

Steven Savile, a #1 UK bestseller and International bestseller, is sure to frighten you with this tale of terrorism, murder and grim scenes... yet intrigue you with his vivid descriptions of landscapes, character interactions, and accurate historical events (speculative re-creation of course - this is a work of fiction after all).

'SILVER' - A Thriller by Steven SavileDue out October 2009, SILVER is a dark thriller that is both compelling and controversial like Dan Brown's, The Da Vinci Code.

EDIT 050509:Steven Savile is currently celebrating selling 'SILVER' to Replika in Poland.